I was given away. My original owner tired of me. I miss them, but I suppose not everything will last. They put me in a garbage bag with other things - old shoes, clothes, a couple of hats, some old books...other things they decided to part with. I sat there in the darkness of the bag, I was crying but they couldn't tell.

It's hard...so very hard...to feel unwanted.

I was taken to a thrift store with the other things they decided to get rid of. I felt them drop the bag there, speaking a few times with the workers at the store. Then I heard the car door close. That was the last time I ever heard their voice.

I was taken in, dumped out of the bag. The things were sorted, including me. I saw others, some were crying, others were badly injured. A few were glad to move on.

They cleaned me and stapled a price tag onto my ear. $1.99...that is my worth. I was worth so much more when they first bought me brand new. I guess that's the price of something used and abandoned.

They took me and some of the others inside the store. They placed me on a shelf, where many others were at. They were much more hopeful than those in the back area - they believed that any day could be their day to be adopted. One by one, I saw people walk by, a few looked at me, but were more interested in someone else. I watched the others picked up and placed into a shopping cart. I watched them as they were taken away to their new lives.

I let out a sigh, thinking about what things would be like, wondering if and when I'd be adopted. I had the same fear as the others with me, that I may be rejected, that I may be thrown away. I was thankful that my previous owners gave me this chance, but it was only a chance, not a guarantee.

Moments passed. I had begun to lose my hope when you came along. You looked at me for just a moment, and that was all it took. You picked me up, petted me, smiled at me. And then you put me into your cart. I rode along with the other things you had found and rescued. I looked up to you, and you can't tell how happy I am that someone cared for me.

I was paid for and you carried me in your arm out of the store. We rode in a car to your home, where you removed the price tag on my ear and placed me on your bed.

And from that moment on, I vowed to be your guardian. I would never let anything happen to you, and you would do the same for me. I was so thankful that we found each other.

Thank you for adopting me.

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This story is dedicated to the many plush animals who wait at thrift stores for that certain someone to find them. I have had my share of 'adoptions', and they have proven to be some of my best friends, guardians, and inspirations.

If it wasn't for Victor, a goat plush I found at a thrift store, I never would have liked goats (and probably never would have made the transition to deer either). He continues to be one of my favorite finds. The deer and goat on my bed are always waiting for me when I get home, and this weasel plush inspired my evil villain, Iugulare, as a few examples.

So if you ever feel sad or lonely, take a trip to a thrift store (if one is available to you) and see if there's a plush animal waiting for you to take them home. It may be a life-changing choice.